


Derek Hale: Protective Mode Engaged

by whenshewrites



Series: A Collection of 5+1 Things [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Derek Hale is a Softie, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Hurt Stiles Stilinski, Idiots in Love, M/M, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Sheriff Stilinski Ships It, Stiles Stilinski Loves Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Stiles Stilinski is a Mess, The Pack Being Idiots, The Pack Ships It, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 09:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24967807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenshewrites/pseuds/whenshewrites
Summary: Derek is determined to protect Stiles. That might involve stalking, clothes sharing, and the accidental murder of Jackson.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: A Collection of 5+1 Things [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1990429
Comments: 23
Kudos: 691
Collections: Sterek Goodness





	Derek Hale: Protective Mode Engaged

1.

The thing was, Derek didn’t do things like this.

‘Things like this’ being indebted to someone, that is. See, there was this one time when Derek was younger that his uncle saved him from being killed by hunters, and Peter held onto that for years afterward, in the worst ways possible. 

So Derek decided he’d never be in anyone’s debt ever again. He’d never give anyone that kind of control over him. Not after Peter.

But then Stiles Stilinski, the annoying kid that Derek couldn’t stand, decided to save his life. And it wasn’t just saving his life; it was that Stiles could’ve abandoned him easily. Stiles could’ve easily secured his own safety and left Derek for the kanima, but he didn’t.

Nearly two months of trauma later and Derek still didn’t understand why.

With the kanima taken care of and Jackson somewhat back to normal, things started to settle down. The school year was coming to an end and Derek had three new betas to try and figure out. Not to mention they were all three pains in the ass. That didn’t help things.

But also, Stiles. Just… Stiles.

He kept showing up.

Derek had thought that if he avoided the boy, he could forget his debt. Because that was stupid. Stiles had saved him from the kanima and Derek was sure he’d someday save Stiles’s life in return. In fact, he probably already had and just didn’t know it. He didn’t care about the boy. Or the fact that he had literally wormed his way into Derek’s life and refused to leave.

Derek didn’t care at all. He didn’t.

He kind of did.

So, he made the decision to fix things once and for all. This might involve making sure that the moment Stiles got into trouble, Derek was there to save him from inevitable doom, but that wasn’t the problem.

The problem was not letting Stiles know. Because Derek refused to let him realize the sort of control he currently had. 

The first time was just a little thing. Like Derek living outside of Stiles’s bedroom for the foreseeable future.

Apparently, Stiles didn’t appreciate this.

But Derek thought he was being discrete. He waited in his Camaro a good block down the street, watching Stiles’s door until his light went out. Then he parked in front of the house, made his way to the lawn, and continued to stand there until Derek was sure Stiles wasn’t going to get attacked by anything that night.

Stiles found out quickly.

Derek wasn’t sure how, exactly. Only that one second, he was standing on the lawn with his hands shoved into his pockets, glaring at nothingness with his back toward the window, and then the next, something was bouncing off his skull.

Derek snapped to attention and snarled, turning around with red eyes as he prepared to face the threat. But he wasn’t prepared to see Stiles’s light back on the and the boy’s head sticking out the window, two very confused amber eyes squinting out at him.

“Derek?” Stiles asked, disbelief coloring his words. “Derek, what the hell are you doing?”

Derek hadn’t expected to ever get caught. So naturally, he froze and all words fled him, hands turning into fists in his pockets. Stiles tilted his head and then withdrew from the window, and Derek heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs inside.

Panicking, he started to turn around and flee. But Stiles was out on the porch before Derek could make his getaway.

The boy looked more than confused now. He’d started to grow his hair out, Derek noticed, and he really shouldn’t be concentrating on those things. Or the fact that his eyes seemed to glow more gold than amber in the porch light. He shouldn’t be concentrating on those things at all.

Derek growled at himself and then continued to glare at Stiles. 

“What.”

“What?  _ What?  _ Me, what? Dude! You’re standing in front of my house like a total creeper at three in the morning!”

Derek hadn’t realized it’d gotten that late. But he kept his face blank and Stiles’s scent turned sour with frustration and the boy crossed his arms and surveyed him.

“Why the hell are you standing in front of my house like a total creeper at three in the morning? I swear, dude, I nearly had a heart attack.”

Derek really hadn’t planned this. He tried to think of a good excuse but the only thing that resulted from that was his glare turning angrier. Stiles blanched back. 

“Dude, Sourwolf, are you here to kill me?”

“Stop calling me dude.”

“That is so not an answer! Why the hell are you camping out in front of my house?”

And suddenly, Derek had a realization. He realized that Stiles was a junior level teenager, Derek was supposed to be an adult, and he didn’t have to stand here and be interrogated. Smirking a little, Derek stuffed his hands back into his pockets and turned away. Stiles’s confused squawking followed him all the way into the Camaro, but Derek didn’t even look back.

His headlights revealed Stiles as he pulled out of the driveway, staring at him with an indignant expression on his face. Derek smiled all teeth, despite the nagging at the back of his mind that this had not gone to plan. 

Still, he had other opportunities. And he wouldn’t mess those up.

Next time, things would go better.

2.

Except the second time, Derek nearly killed Jackson for cuffing Stiles over the back of the head.

No, that wasn’t necessarily saving Stiles’s life and Derek understood that, but he didn’t really care. Jackson had been nagging Stiles the entire pack meeting; from little comments to mild threats when he thought no one else was listening. When Stiles snarked something back about Jackson and lizards, and the beta smacked Stiles over the back of the head, Derek was moving before he could stop himself.

He wouldn’t have actually killed Jackson. Probably. Most likely. But at one point he was glaring daggers in the boy’s direction and the next, he was slamming Jackson against the nearest pillar of his loft.

Startled sounds went all around the loft and Derek flashed his red eyes, gripping fistfuls of Jackson’s shirt a little tighter.

“One more time,” Derek said, fangs poking at his lower lip. “Do that one more time.”

“Do what?” Jackson shouted, eyes bright blue and lips pulled back in a snarl. But his voice cracked a little. Derek growled and his claws started to come out, but then he was being dragged back, a pair of calloused hands on his bare arm.

“Derek! Derek, you idiot, what the hell are you doing?”

Derek turned around with a snarl and Stiles met his gaze with an equally ferocious expression. His amber eyes flashed and his hands were clenched into fists, and Derek drew back, all the adrenaline draining out of him.

The rest of the pack was staring, he realized. Glaring down at the floor, Derek crossed his arms. 

“Everyone out, the meeting’s over.”

Silence was his answer. Derek looked up with flashing red eyes and that finally made the rest of the pack comply. They shuffled out one by one out of the loft in exception to a lone figure.

Derek glared at Stiles before stalking toward the loft stairs. But the boy cut him off at the last second.

“Oh, hell no, dude, you’re going to tell me exactly what that was.”

“Get out of the way, Stiles.”

“Nope,” Stiles said, folding his arms over his chest and lifting his chin. “Start talking and start talking now, because I have the patience of a five-year-old. In about three seconds I’m going to start poking at your face and demanding answers, and you’re really not going to like that, so I’d suggest you—”

“Get out of the  _ way _ , Stiles,” Derek said, cutting him off. Stiles’s scent soured with irritation and Derek frowned, averting his gaze. “Jackson needed to be put in his place.”

“Put in his—  _ put in his place?  _ Dude! What the hell for?”

Derek’s eyes snapped back to Stiles’s face and it seemed to take the boy a moment more. Then his face cleared with realization and he moved back a step, looking confused. 

“Dude, what?”

“What.”

“Don’t ‘what’ me! None of what Jackson does is new, Derek! Why the hell do you care now? And you looked like you were about to kill him. In this pack, we don’t kill people for being a little rude!”

“I wasn’t going to kill him,” Derek said, brushing past. “And you’re not in my pack.”

“Uh, come again?”

“You’re in Scott’s pack,” Derek said. “It doesn’t matter what kind of werewolf he is or how often we all work together, you’ve become part of his just like Allison and Lydia.”

“You don’t have the right to tell me what kind of pack I am or am not a part of, Sourwolf!”

Derek turned around and glared at him. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Are you in McCall’s pack or not?”

Stiles blinked dumbly at him. In truth, Derek didn’t know why he cared. He didn’t know why that got under his skin. He’d known this kid for a little over a year; he’d been an Alpha for less. But that bothered him. Stiles calling Derek’s pack ‘the pack’ and ‘his pack’ when it wasn’t. They weren’t one big happy family. Things didn’t work like that.

And Derek would never admit aloud that he wished they did.

Stiles’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he let out a frustrated noise and spun around, stalking toward the loft door. Derek watched him leave with a sinking feeling and kind of hated himself for that. Because he shouldn’t care. He really shouldn’t.

He didn’t.

But when the door closed and silence fell over the loft, Derek clenched his hands into fists so hard, his nails dug into his palm. They pierced through skin without even being claws. 

So, trying to kill Jackson wasn’t the right way to go about protecting Stiles, Derek realized. But he was frustrated, dammit. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

Stiles was too stubborn for his own good.

And Derek might be too.

3.

The third time, Derek actually thought he had a solid chance at erasing his debt. Which, in retrospect, was a terrible reason for being excited. Because Stiles was in trouble. That should not have made him excited.

Derek thought that after Peter, Kate, and the kanima, he was more than prepared to face anything. He didn’t expect the witch though. Although, he didn’t think she expected them either. Because when Derek caught a whiff of magic and led the pack deep into the preserve, she seemed just as startled to see them as they were to see her.

She took Stiles. And Derek was more pissed about that than he imagined he would have been a couple of months ago.

He was also a little relieved. And slightly guilty after he came to that realization.

Because finally, Derek could be the one saving Stiles’s idiotic life and then things could go back to normal. He’d no longer have to sneak around the Stilinski household at night, he wouldn’t have to shove Jackson through three walls when he tripped up Stiles in the parking lot, and his betas would stop giving him strange looks every time Stiles entered the loft and Derek cursed.

Things were finally going to go back to normal. And Derek had never been so relieved. 

Except Scott got to Stiles first.

Derek had been chasing the witch all over town, following the scent of magic as best as he could. It ended up leading him to a coffee shop where he was more than a little surprised to see her sitting at one of the small round tables with a cup of tea.

Derek stalked across the room and tried to be as looming as possible as he stood over her. But the witch only arched one carefully manicured brow and tilted her head, studying him up and down.

“Ah, an Alpha. Care to join me?”

“Where’s Stiles?” Derek snarled, flashing his eyes. A smile twitched at the corner of the witch’s mouth and she made a show of glancing around the coffee shop before bringing the cup to her lips.

“People are staring, Alpha Hale.”

Derek growled but threw a quick glance over his shoulder. He hated to admit that she was right and people were starting to stare. He imagined it didn’t look very good; him standing over a much smaller, much less threatening-looking woman. Setting his jaw, Derek dropped into the chair opposite her and glared.

“What the hell have you done with Stiles?”

“Stiles. Is that the tall skinny kid that stumbled into my portal when I escaped in the woods?”

Derek blinked. That answer was not one he’d been expecting.

“What,” the witch said, seeing his expression. “Do you think I kidnapped the boy? Well, to be fair, he thought I had too. You should have heard him start babbling the moment we ended up behind a dumpster all the way across town. He thought I was going to murder him and leave his body there.”

Derek felt his eyes starting to flash red again. He bared his teeth and the witch chuckled.

“Don’t worry, Alpha Hale, I didn’t harm a hair on the boy’s head. No, I don’t do things like that. You must understand I didn’t realize Beacon Hills had a pack again. It’s been so many years since this area has been inhabited.”

Derek thought he should care more about those words, but he really didn’t. Because if she hadn’t hurt Stiles—

“You want to know what I’ve done with him,” the witch said, a knowing glint in her eyes. 

The look made Derek uncomfortable and he averted his own with a soft growl. The witch’s laughter was like tinkling silverware. 

“I took him back to the one he smelled like most,” she said. When Derek looked sharply back, her smile grew, and he decided he didn’t like that either. “Not you, I’m afraid. The little werewolf with the floppy hair. The one that Stiles absolutely reeks of.”

“Scott?”

“That would be his name, yes.”

Derek didn’t know what to do with the emotion curling in his gut. He listened to her heartbeat and heard nothing but the truth, pushing himself up with a growl. If Scott had Stiles, that meant the boy was no longer in trouble. Derek hadn’t erased his debt.

He really should care about that last part more. But Derek couldn’t help the relief that crashed over him at the realization that Stiles was at least alright.

“He does hold traces of your scent though,” the witch said before Derek turned away. “Your scent and your pack’s scent. If that makes you feel any better.”

“I don’t care,” Derek growled. She chuckled.

“Of course, not.”

Derek glared at her one more time before turning away. He didn’t care, he told himself. Why would he? The only thing that mattered was that Derek had once again messed up. He still owed Stilinski.

Next time, Derek was going to move faster. And next time… Derek made a decision then, heading toward Stiles’s house instead of his own. He wasn’t sure exactly what had spurred this idea and he was pretty sure it was a terrible one, but maybe next time it would make things easier.

Except Stiles’s bedroom light wasn’t on when Derek crossed the lawn. He slowed to a stop and blinked at it, and then started to turn away, when suddenly the front door was opening.

Derek froze before turning around. The Sheriff himself stood in the doorway, one shoulder leaning up against the frame and a slice of pizza held in one hand. Derek went shock-still, feeling like a deer in headlights, and the Sheriff arched a brow.

“Are you looking for someone, son?”

“N-no, sir.”

“Stumbled across the wrong house then?”

Derek blinked at him and felt his face gradually turning warm. He knew at some point, the Sheriff had learned about werewolves. He also knew that the Sheriff wasn’t out to arrest him anymore. He didn’t think. The man might have wolfsbane bullets, though.

That didn’t make Derek feel good at all.

“Why don’t you come in?” The Sheriff said, pushing the door open wider. Derek’s heart thudded against his chest and he was certain he should come up with any excuse to say no, but all words died in his throat. Slowly, he trudged forward.

But then the sound of an engine dying behind him made relief crash over Derek once more.

He spun around as Stiles came stumbling out of the jeep, eyes snapping from Derek, to his dad, and then back. There was a definite question in his eyes and a little bit of panic, but he only put on a nervous smile and stepped between the two of them.

Derek had never felt more thankful. 

“Hey, dad,” the boy said, running a hand through his hair. “What’s, uh, going on here?”

“Derek Hale showed up,” the Sheriff said, giving Derek a purposeful look. Derek felt his face grow even warmer at Stiles’s confused look. “I thought maybe he was looking for someone. Like you, perhaps.”

“What? Me? Why me?”

“I don’t know,” the Sheriff said, his eyes still locked on where Derek stood. “Hale, care to explain?”

Derek really didn’t want to explain. But he also couldn’t think of a good excuse. He was starting to think he didn’t do well in situations like this except this time, it wasn’t just him and Stiles. Derek couldn’t flaunt his seniority and turn away without an answer.

He was pretty sure the Sheriff would shoot him in the back if Derek did that.

“Pack… stuff,” Derek said in a stutter, hoping that would be enough. And hoping that he was right, and Stiles had mentioned werewolves to his father.

The boy didn’t freak out or faint, so Derek assumed he had. The Sheriff didn’t look impressed though.

“Pack stuff?”

“Yes, sir,” Derek said. “Pack stuff.”

“Care to expand on that?”

Derek shook his head and Stiles visibly facepalmed. The boy trudged forward and caught his dad’s arm, pulling him toward the door, and the Sheriff let him. But his eyes never left Derek’s face.

It was unsettling.

Derek didn’t move until Stiles had pushed his dad into the house. Then the boy threw a glance over his shoulder; one full of bewilderment, confusion, and slight exasperation. Derek swallowed hard and gazed miserably back, and then the door was closed.

Derek decided to come back later. Because he could not take another conversation right now. He hated everything sometimes.

Especially witches.

4.

The fourth time, Derek showed back up in Stiles’s bedroom after nearly a month. He was still terrified as he did so now, moving cautiously across the carpet. 

He’d checked to make sure the Sheriff was on a shift and then he’d checked again. Stiles was definitely home; Derek could smell the scents of autumn and cinnamon hanging in the air, but he wasn’t in his room. 

Derek opened the door and stuck his head out, and heard the sound of a squeaking faucet, a soft curse, and then slapping of footsteps that confused him for one second too long.

Before Derek could stumble back and make a break for the window, Stiles was stepping out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and dripping wet hair. He looked up and his eyes went wide as he spotted Derek. The boy yelped and flailed away, and Derek ducked back into the bedroom, closing the door firmly at his back.

His heart thudded against his chest. He was pretty sure Stiles was going to call his father and Derek was going to be a wanted fugitive once more.

But instead, Stiles’s indignant voice came cutting through the air. Derek winced.

“Sourwolf, what the actual hell? This has gone too far! The stalking must stop! A man should not be terrified to walk around half-naked in his own house!”

“You’re not a man,” Derek said, the words spilling out before he could stop them. He instantly squeezed his eyes shut and decided he was never coming back here again.

For a moment, Stiles was silent. Then his voice was back, screeching once again. “Dude, that’s even worse! Oh my god!”

Derek peeled himself off the door and moved across the room. He could hear Stiles cautiously padding down the hallway and the boy hesitated outside of the door for a long second before speaking again.

“I’m going to come into my room now. I swear to god, if your back isn’t to me when that happens, I’m stuffing wolfsbane down your throat the moment I’m fully clothed.”

Derek’s face burned and he growled at that implication. It wasn’t like any of this was on purpose.

The door slowly creaked open and Derek heard the sound of Stiles padding in. He remained stock-still, eyes firmly fixed on the opposite wall, and heard the squeak of Stiles’s dresser, the flutter of clothes, and then Stiles’s deliberate sigh.

“Okay, Sourwolf, you can turn around now. And explain yourself because I’m about to shove wolfsbane down your throat on incident alone.”

Slowly, Derek turned back around. His jaw was clenched and his fingers were white around the small plastic bag he held. Stiles eyed it curiously for a moment before crossing his arms and meeting Derek’s eyes with an expression of challenge.

“Explain. Now.”

“It was an accident.”

“I sure as hell hope it was an accident. What’s in the bag?”

Derek gripped it tighter, suddenly regretting his decision to come here. He’d thought a month would be long enough but maybe he should’ve waited for two. Or decided that life debts weren’t worth this much pain and just stopped acknowledging Stiles altogether. 

Forever.

But instead, he offered the bag forward and Stiles hesitated for a moment before taking it. He peered inside and then blinked, glancing back up.

“I’m sorry, what is this? The local thrift store is all the way across town, Sourwolf. And if you’re wanting me to do your laundry, I very kindly say fuck you.”

“It’s not laundry,” Derek said. “And it’s not a donation. It’s… pack stuff.”

“You really like saying that, don’t you?”

“It is,” Derek said in a growl. His ears burned as Stiles pulled out one grey henley and dangled it through the air.

“Your old clothes are pack stuff?”

“They’re not old.”

“This one has a bloodstain near the collar.”

“Then don’t wear that one.”

Stiles lowered the shirt and peered at him. Derek held his gaze, determined not to back down. Stiles’s eyes slowly narrowed and he moved forward until they were only a few inches apart. “What is your game here, Sourwolf?”

“I don’t have a game.”

“Right. So why do you want me to smell like you?”

Derek choked on his own breath. Stiles’s grin stretched from ear to ear and he splayed on hand on Derek’s chest, wiggling his eyebrows.

“What’s going on here, Sourwolf?”

“It’s pack stuff,” Derek said, shaking him off. To Stiles’s incredulous look, he frowned. “If you smell like me— if you smell like pack— the supernatural will take that as a warning. And maybe you won’t be in trouble as often.”

It seemed a little counterproductive now that Derek was saying it out loud. He furrowed his brows and started to realize that, but then Stiles’s rolling eyes and playful smirk brought him snapping back to reality.

“Right,” Stiles said. “That’s totally the reason. Because I’m always the one in trouble.”

“You are.”

“And who’s fault is that?”

“Mostly? Your own.”

“Uh, huh,” Stiles said, turning away. He picked up the bag of shirts and for a moment, Derek thought the boy was going to shove them back into his hands or maybe drop them in the trashcan three feet away. But instead, Stiles set them on the edge of his bed and gave Derek a flat look. “Fine, Sourwolf. I’ll go around town smelling like grumps and growls. But I reserve the right to wear my own clothes too.”

Derek was a little startled this had worked so well. So he only nodded and Stiles beamed. 

“Great! Now get your wolfy ass back out of my room. I have homework to do, dinner to eat, and I forgot to put on underwear.”

Derek’s face burned hot and he quickly turned away, pulling himself back out the window. Stiles’s laughter followed him and Derek thought that shouldn’t have made his stomach flutter. But he was a mess, he decided. And it was all Stiles’s fault.

Yeah, that’s what it was.

5.

The fifth time, Stiles was in trouble again. This time, Derek didn’t feel an inkling of relief.

There were hunters in town. Derek was pretty sure they’d come for the pack so he’d assigned everyone to travel around in pairs. Scott was supposed to have been with Stiles at the time of the kidnapping, but the boy had wandered off to find Allison. And Stiles had been taken in the school parking lot after lacrosse practice.

Derek was livid.

He was livid at Scott, he was livid at the hunters, but mostly, he was livid at himself. Because he should have known better. He should have known Scott couldn’t go twenty-four hours without his girlfriend and Stiles was far too loyal to complain.

He should've assigned Stiles to someone else. He should’ve kept an eye on Stiles himself.

There were no thoughts of a ‘debt’ when Derek went after the hunters. Mostly, he was determined to find Stiles and get him out. Before something bad happened and— and— he didn’t let himself think further than that.

He started at the Stilinski house, trying to catch a scent. Stiles had been wearing his shirts almost every day lately and Derek had never been more grateful for that. Because his scent was so strong, Derek caught it when he reached the block. Still, he parked in front of the driveway and pulled himself through the window to try and catch more of a fresh one.

Only to freeze.

The Sheriff was sitting on his son’s bed with his face in his hands and Derek was sure no one had mentioned Stiles’s kidnapping to him. Unless someone decided not to listen and went off running their mouth anyway.

Derek was pretty sure he knew who.

The Sheriff looked up the second Derek dropped onto the carpet and Derek was pretty sure he was going to get a dozen wolfsbane bullets to the chest. But instead, the man just looked terrified and exhausted, pushing himself to his feet.

“Have you found Stiles yet?”

“... Sir?”

“Scott called me,” the man said, and Derek’s stomach sunk. “I— I took the day off of work. I know things happen like this sometimes but he sounded worried and Stiles claimed he’d spent the night at Scott’s yesterday. And if he’s been missing for over twenty-four hours—”

“We’re looking for him,” Derek said gently. The Sheriff’s face tightened and his eyes flashed.

“So he’s still missing?”

A lump formed in Derek’s throat and he nodded. “I’m sorry.”

For a moment, the Sheriff just looked at him. Derek was pretty sure nothing good was going to come out of his mouth next and maybe that’s what he deserved. He should’ve kept a better eye on the boy. That had been his promise to himself after all.

Derek wasn’t sure when it had become a promise, not a debt.

But then the Sheriff’s face softened and he just nodded. Struck by confusion, Derek didn’t know how to react for a moment. The Sheriff picked up a shirt off the floor and Derek’s face burned as he realized it was one of his.

“I know you try to take care of my son,” the Sheriff said. “Even if I don’t understand how you go about doing that. I… I trust you’ll find him.”

Once more, all Derek could do was nod. He didn’t know what else to say. 

The Sheriff glanced over at Stiles’s neat and untouched bed again, before running a hand through his hair. He offered Derek a small smile and turned toward the door. But then he glanced back.

“Find him, Derek. Please”

“I will, sir.”

Derek didn’t move from his spot until the Sheriff was out of sight again. Internally, he vowed to have a little chat with Scott about spreading pack business after this. But then again, he supposed the Sheriff deserved to know when his son was in trouble.

Derek grabbed the shirt that the man had left on the edge of the bed and closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of cinnamon and autumn. An itch formed underneath his skin and he turned back toward the window, pulling himself back out.

Yeah, he supposed at some point, protecting Stiles had become more of a promise to himself and less of a debt to get out of. And Derek decided he wasn’t so against that.

He was going to find Stiles. 

-

The boy had been thrown in a cell.

The hunters were smart, but they weren’t discrete. Stiles’s scent was all around the abandoned safe house that Derek had tracked him to and there weren't that many of them. Not enough to stop Derek, on an adrenaline high from the rush of anger he’d felt at the faint smell of blood he caught in the air.

He could hear Stiles’s heartbeat from the basement. When Derek got downstairs and ripped the cell door off its hinges, he spotted Stiles curled up in the furthest corner with his red sweatshirt hanging slightly off one shoulder. It was torn and parts of it were stained redder than others, but Stiles didn’t look too injured. His scent was just soft and tired. His eyelids barely fluttered as Derek crossed the cell and dropped into a crouch beside him.

Amber eyes blinked blearily at him. Slowly, they sharpened, and an additional edge of confusion added to Stiles’s scent.

“Derek?”

“It’s me,” Derek said, linking one arm underneath the boy’s legs and another around his back. With a grunt, he lifted him off the ground, and Stiles made a small noise of pain. He had a black eye and a bloodied lower lip. That made Derek’s blood boil. “I’m here.”

“And the hunters?”

“Taken care of.”

There was an edge to Derek’s voice with those last words and he could tell Stiles recognized it. But Stiles only swallowed and nodded, turning his face into Derek’s chest. That made Derek’s heart do something strange that he would never address out loud.

As Derek pushed back out of the cell, he listened to the boy’s breaths slow and his heartbeat calm down. Stiles’s sour scent of fear and pain softened to one of cinnamon again and Derek tightened his hold a little more. He felt Stiles closing his eyes against his chest and in a matter of moments, the boy was asleep.

“I’m sorry,” Derek said quietly, knowing that Stiles couldn’t hear. But it was just something he needed to get out. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

He would be next time, Derek decided. This wouldn’t happen again.

He wasn’t in Stiles’s debt, not anymore. But Derek didn’t think he ever really had been. Things were different than they had been with Peter. Derek had never felt like he was owned by someone because they saved his life.

No, he wasn’t in Stiles’s debt. This was something else.

Something Derek wasn’t ready to address out loud.

+1.

Stiles didn’t know why, but after the incident with the hunters, Derek started avoiding him.

Of course, Stiles knew why they’d taken him. It had been a ploy to not only ensnare the whole pack but to ensnare Derek too. The hunters knew that in some way, being the token human of the pack, Stiles meant something to it and its Alpha. Even if Stiles wasn’t exactly sure what that was.

The point was, Derek had started avoiding him. He stopped telling him about pack meetings, he stopped swinging through his window in the middle of the night. He never told Stiles to stay away out loud, but from the grunts and glares Stiles got whenever he stepped foot into the loft, the message was pretty clear.

So Stiles stared avoiding him too.

And it was torture.

The first week was boring, the second week and nerve-wracking, and when two weeks suddenly turned into a month and a half, Stiles was going out of his mind.

He couldn’t think straight. He wasn’t sleeping well. And he felt like he was going crazy. 

And it was all Derek Hale’s fault.

Okay, that might not be fair, but the man was the one who had started avoiding him first. Stiles didn’t know what he’d done wrong to make Derek go from tolerating— and maybe sorta liking?— to pretending he didn’t exist anymore. But it hurt. 

Stiles hadn’t asked to be kidnapped. He didn’t go to the hunters and beg them to hit him over the head and drag him into a dingy old cell.

Stiles was pretty sure his dad noticed. The Sheriff kept giving him quiet looks over dinner and sometimes, he would just stand in the doorway of his bedroom and watch Stiles for a moment before turning away.

Stiles was pretty sure the pack had noticed it too. Except, not because of him. Stiles was pretty sure it was because of Derek.

Erica came through his window one morning with eyes flashing blue and an angry expression on her face. Stiles was so startled, he nearly fell out of his desk chair.

He really needed to put a lock on his window.

“Jesus,” Stiles said, regaining his calm and wiping a hand over his face. “Do none of you know how to use a door? Or is that just a werewolf thing?”

“You and Derek need to make up.”

Stiles blinked at her. Erica arched a brow and he chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. “What’s that supposed to mean? We’re not fighting.”

“Clearly, something’s going on,” Erica said, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. There were bags underneath her eyes, Stiles noticed. It looked like she hadn’t slept in weeks. “He’s being irritable, grumpy, and downright mean.”

“That sounds like a normal day-to-day Derek Hale if you ask me.”

“No,” Erica said, eyes flashing. “Not when he’s around you, Stiles. He’s started making us wake up at ass o’clock in the morning every day. Every  _ day.  _ Even on the weekend!”

Stiles winced. But it didn’t seem like Erica was done.

“All he ever does is glare anymore. He’s speaking in grunts and the last time he left the loft was three weeks ago to go to the store. Where he only bought three loaves of bread and four containers of peanut butter.”

“... Dude, seriously?”

“Yeah,” Erica said. “So you need to come over and fix him. Now.”

But Stiles didn’t think that’s what he needed to do. In fact, hearing the things she said, he was pretty sure that if Derek saw his face, things would only get worse. Because the man had been the one to start avoiding him, remember?

“Yeah,” Stiles said. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”

In a second, he was being dragged out of his chair and lifted a good two feet in the air by his collar. Stiles yelped and Erica shoved her face inches from his, eyes turning blue. “No way in hell, Stilinksi. You are not dismissing this.”

“Derek doesn’t even want to see me! I’m like, ninety-nine perfect sure of that!”

Erica gave him a flat look and Stiles squeaked as she dropped him back to the floor. The beta took a long, painstaking breath, and then shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m the one who has to say this, but Stiles, for the love of God, please go talk to Derek. Trust me, he wants.”

“... Wants?”

_ “Wants.” _

Stiles stared at her for a second. Not for the first time, he wished he could read heartbeats like werewolves because that would make things so much easier. But Erica didn’t seem to be messing with him. So slowly, he nodded.

“I’ll go see the Sourwolf.”

She visibly deflated, the blue fading from her eyes. “Oh thank god.”

\- 

The loft was empty when Stiles showed up. He wasn’t sure if this was Erica’s doing, good luck, or very, very bad luck and nobody would ever find his body.

Not that he thought Derek was going to kill him. Grunt and growl at him a little maybe, but no killing. Probably.

He didn’t bother knocking but padded into the loft nervously. The first thing he realized was that there was a chunk missing from one of the pillars and the coffee table was covered in old take-out containers, pizza boxes, and empty coffee cups. Stiles chewed on his lower lip and gazed around.

“Uh, Derek?”

For a moment he didn’t get an answer. Maybe Derek wasn’t even here. Maybe the man had smelled him a mile out and decided to take off running. Stiles wouldn’t put it past him.

But then Derek appeared in the doorway of the kitchen and Stiles froze, raising a hand in greeting. The man’s face did a few strange things before settling on a flat look and Derek arched a brow.

“What are you doing here, Stiles?”

“Hopefully, not getting murdered. But the jury’s still out on that one.”

Derek sighed and crossed his arms. Stiles chuckled nervously, moving further into the room, and couldn’t help glancing around at the mess.

“Had a party recently, Sourwolf? Or maybe a pack of rhinos came trampling through?”

Derek’s face hardened. “What.”

“Dude, this place is a mess. I was under the impression you were only eating bread and peanut butter. But dude? That’s a lot of pizza. And take-out. If you’re not careful, you’re going to start losing your little werewolf muscles.”

“None of that is me,” Derek said, jerking his head toward the coffee table. “That’s the betas.”

“Ah. So I can see they’re eating well.”

“You didn’t answer the question, Stiles,” Derek said, a growl edging at his voice. It was so much like when they’d first met years ago, that Stiles couldn’t help feeling a little hurt. He didn’t want to go back to those days. They weren’t nearly as fun. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to check in on you, Sourwolf,” Stiles said truthfully. “A little birdie told me you’re struggling with anger issues and I wanted to see if that has anything to do with you suddenly kicking me out of the pack.”

Derek’s eyes flashed red. He leaned forward and sniffed the air, before snarling and drawing back. “Erica.”

“She says you make them wake up at ass o’clock to train, dude. Nobody should be up at ass o’clock! Like, I’m literally pretty sure that’s illegal. And if it’s not, it really should be. No flashing in public places.”

“They need to train,” Derek said stubbornly. Stiles rolled his eyes.

“That’s what ten in the morning is for.”

“I’m the alpha, I make the rules.”

“Ah, and that’s a very mature comeback, dude. I applaud you for it. But seriously. Does this have to do with why I’m getting the cold shoulder?”

Derek blinked at him. He actually looked a little confused— or was it guilty?— and Stiles narrowed his eyes.

“You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Lies! I might not be a werewolf, you asshole, but I can tell a lie when I see one. Derek, why the hell are you avoiding me? Does it have to do with the hunters? Because that was two months ago! I’m still part of the pack, asshole, even if I do get kidnapped sometimes.”

Derek flinched and Stiles didn’t know how to react to that. The man’s eyes were flickering red and he growled for a moment before fixing Stiles with a frustrated look. “That can’t happen.”

“What, me seeing a lie, me knowing that I’m getting the cold shoulder, or me getting kidnapped?”

“You getting kidnapped!”

Stiles froze. That really hadn’t been the answer he’d expected to get.

“You should go, Stiles.”

“Oh hell no,” Stiles said, snapping back to reality. He moved forward and Derek moved back as if Stiles was tainted or something. Irritation flared in the back of his throat and Stiles resisted the urge to grab Derek by the collar of his shirt like Erica had done to him. He didn’t think things would work out very well if he did that.

“No?”

“No. We’re going to talk about this.”

Derek looked at him for a long moment. Then he turned and started back into the kitchen and Stiles gaped before stumbling after him. The man must have been in the middle of making coffee because there was a cup on the counter that was only half-filled. 

Derek finished filling it with vicious movements and Stiles didn’t know how to react to that. He supposed it was better the coffee than him, but…

“Derek,” he said softly. “Derek, why won’t you talk to me?”

The man emptied a packet of sugar into his cup and stirred it once. Stiles swallowed hard, a pit forming in his stomach.

“Derek, why are you pushing me away?”

Because he’d thought they’d been doing better. Yeah, Stiles had thought it was strange at first. Derek showed up to his house uninvited one night and continued to do that for the next year and a half. He’d gone berserk whenever Stiles had been the one kidnapped or hurt during the ‘Monster of the Week’ occasions, and he’d started getting all smiley when Stiles started wearing his clothes.

At first, Stiles thought it was the strangest thing to ever happen since the supernatural. But then… then he’d started to enjoy it. He’d started to like Derek always being there, always being around, and always being… happy. Or something.

He’d liked having Derek Hale around. Stiles never thought he’d admit that to himself, but now he was ready to admit it out loud.

He just didn’t know if Derek felt the same.

“It’s been nearly two months,” Stiles said quietly. “Derek, am I still part of the pack?”

“Of course.”

“Then why don’t you act like it?”

“Because that gets you hurt!”

Derek turned around with flashing eyes and Stiles startled. Clenching his jaw, Derek looked down at his coffee again and gripped it so hard, Stiles thought he might shatter the cup. 

“Because you saved me, so I was supposed to save you. But I can’t keep doing that, Stiles. I can’t do that forever. And what if next time I don’t get there fast enough?”

“I saved you?”

Derek looked up at him and Stiles didn’t think he’d ever seen such a vulnerable expression on the werewolf’s face. Stiles searched his memories trying to figure out when he’d possibly saved Derek Hale. And… well, yeah, there’d been times. Stiles nearly cutting his arm off, Stiles keeping the werewolf hidden in his bedroom for an entire day. There’d been—

“What, the pool?”

Derek didn’t answer. Stiles stared.

“Derek, that was like, two years ago.”

“I don’t do being indebted to someone,” Derek said, looking at him with hard eyes. It took a moment for that to sink in and when it did, Stiles felt like he’d been punched in the throat.

“You got close to me because you felt like you were indebted to me?”

Derek clenched his jaw but didn’t deny that. And suddenly everything made sense.

All this time, Stiles thought Derek had started being around him and standing up for him because maybe, just maybe, some part of Derek had come to like him. Friends, maybe. Close acquaintances. Stiles didn’t care. Because he’d come to love it.

Love it. 

It.

No, Stiles had come to love Derek Hale.

Derek’s eyes went wide and Stiles realized with a wave of crushing horror that he’d said all of that aloud. His heart hammered against his chest and he stumbled back, turning away and making for the door. But Derek was in front of him before he could escape and Stiles shied back, sure he’d never be able to show his face up in the loft again.

If he wasn’t out of the pack before, he sure as hell was now.

Except, Derek wasn’t yelling at him. He didn’t even look angry. He just looked… surprised. Confused. And maybe a little bit vulnerable. 

“What?”

“No,” Stiles said, looking away. “Don’t.”

“Stiles—”

“Derek, I’ll go! Clearly that’s what you want, as you didn’t bother to look me in the eye again after the hunters. I don’t know why that changed things, but it’s fine. I’ll leave. I’d hate to make you feel indebted or anything.”

“Stiles,” Derek said again, catching his arm. “I’m... sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“You saved my life,” Derek said softly. “You could’ve easily left. I barely liked you let alone knew you. And you didn’t like me. You could’ve left.”

“Do you really think I’d do something like that?”

“People have before.”

_ Dammit. _

Stiles wanted to be angry, but at the same time, that was the last thing he wanted to be. Derek’s pinky linked with his and the man took a shuddering breath.

“And then you kept saving it since.”

Stiles’s breaths stalled in his throat and he studied Derek’s face. But the man’s expression didn’t reveal anything. Nervously, he wet his lips. “So the stalking, the visits, the clothes—”

“... Sorry?”

Stiles couldn’t help huffing. The sound forced its way out of his throat and Derek looked confused. Shaking his head, Stiles eyed the man fondly. “I seriously don’t understand werewolves.”

“All of us, or just me?”

“Mostly you.”

“And the thing you said…”

“Are you going to make me say it again, Sourwolf?”

Derek’s ears turned red and he ducked his head. Stiles thought it was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. “Me too.”

“You too? Um, sorry dude, I’m going to need some more clarity on that. You too what?”

Derek fixed him with a flat look and Stiles was about to say something else, when suddenly the man was moving forward. Stiles made a startled noise as Derek’s lips pressed against his and for a moment, his mind just went blank. 

Stiles.exe stopped working. He was pretty sure his brain did a reboot.

Then Derek was pulling back and Stiles panicked, one hand cupping the back of the man’s neck and crushing their lips together again. Derek growled at the back of his throat and Stiles hummed. He had no idea why they hadn’t started doing this sooner. Or well, he did. But that was in the past now.

Like, five minute’s past.

Stiles made a small noise as Derek curled a hand through his hair and the man shivered, the movement sending vibrations down Stiles’s spine. His eyes fluttered closed and Derek’s tongue traced along his lower lip, teeth nipping cautiously before he was deepening the kiss again.

Stiles shuddered as Derek moved down his neck, lips ghosting over his skin and fingers reaching up to trace the back of Stiles’s neck and then tangle through his hair again. It was more careful than before and insanely soft, until Derek tightened his grip, tugging slightly as Stiles groaned.

“Der—”

_ “Stiles.” _

“Okay, oh my god, either we take this somewhere else of I’m—”

Derek shivered and drew back. Stiles was pretty sure his eyes were glazed and he felt on the urge of dropping. He could still feel Derek’s stubble against his cheek, like a small itch that made him grin. The man arched a brow and Stiles chewed on his lower lip, blinking a few times.

“So, uh…”

“Stiles,” Derek said softly. “I love you too.”

Stiles grinned. 

* * *

See the thing was, Derek didn’t do things like this. He didn’t do debts, or obligations, or… or falling in love. Or at least, he hadn’t thought he did. He hadn’t planned it. He hadn’t meant to in the beginning.

But then Stiles Stilinski, the annoying kid that Derek couldn’t stand, decided to save his life. And it wasn’t just saving his life; it was that Stiles could’ve abandoned him easily. Stiles could’ve easily secured his own safety and left Derek behind, but he didn’t.

Stiles saved his life. And then he did it again, and again, and again. And honestly?

Derek was kind of okay with that.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be around 3k words but then it wasn't. So now here we are, 8k words in, and I'd love to hear what you guys thought! Comments and the support you guys leave makes my day <3


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